Prince of Ice
by NocturneAngel
Summary: Just a doodle, mainly, that turned out to something sweet. Cuteish MarVex to make up for Lost Winter. Matured for.. well, read te first sentance, and you'll know.


With his hands curling to fists around blonde hair and silken grass, the eleventh member of Organization XIII held his breath.

Beneath him, Vexen was breathing rapidly, his eyes firmly shut and an expression of bliss upon his face, and then his body tensed so hard Marluxia's lips were touched by a smile just from the sight of his overwhelming pleasure.

Sharp nails scratched his back without noticing it, and then there seemed to run a pulse throughout his entire body. As Vexen tightened around him, Marluxia himself choked, then to follow the other man into a world of climactic desire that would hold him in a strong grip for a moment or two.

The pink haired man closed his eyes and let the world slip away. Cold radiated from the body beneath him, caressed every curve of Marluxia's muscles in such a manner, it had him shiver and his breath turned into a white cloud as it mixed with Vexen's.

When the cramp-like state left him, the other nobody was already relaxed. A cool, trembling hand was resting against Marluxia's cheek and the tired face was decorated by a rare smile.

The sharp features then tensed for a moment again, and number eleven felt the last, delayed spasm squeeze him before the ecstasy left Vexen completely, and he returned the smile.

Kissing him, Marluxia found that the smiling lips were trembling slightly. And looking at Vexen, he could tell the scientist was already struggling against his desire to sleep, his eyelids flickering a little. When rising to his hands and with his eyebrow knit sliding out of him, Marluxia nodded.

"You sleep", he lowered himself by Vexen's side instead, an elbow on the ground for support, "it's all right."

A silent, thankful look, and then the Chilly Academic closed his eyes and under Marluxia's arm, his body relaxed.

He smiled, a lean finger caressing Vexen's forehead and then pressed a kiss where his finger had just been. "Prince of Ice.." he mumbled it so quietly, he could hardly hear it himself. This was a nickname Marluxia never used for his lover to hear. Something he was called in his dreams and thoughts and poems.

He was already asleep. The Graceful Assassin chuckled at the thought.

Vexen was the type that fell asleep almost immediately after love-making. On occasions, he would lie there for a few moments, kissing and caressing, but he always fell asleep within ten minutes or so.

Marluxia, on the contrary, was the type that got filled with energy. Surely, there was a soft, lovely satisfaction within him, but the pleasure seemed to give speed and strength to his limbs so that he could stay awake for hours before sleeping.

Though it could annoy him at times, this fact was actually useful. Vexen had a tendency to wear himself out, not sleeping for days and, at times, weeks. But if Marluxia, after an hour or so of nagging and seducing, got him into this state, there was no way for the scientist to keep going afterwards without sleeping for a while.

He used this quite often.

Marluxia chuckled, and then laughed softly. He was not afraid to wake Vexen up, for when the scientist was so deep asleep he was snoring quietly, there was an earthquake needed to wake him up.

The botanist's finger slowly traced the outlines of his lover's sharp face.

Others would never call Vexen good looking. He had a worn out appearance, hollow eyes and a constant expression of irritation. And also, he was the oldest member of the Organization, which had earned him the nickname "Grumpy old man", from many of the others. The skinny figure and the slightly crooked back did not help.

But Marluxia couldn't see that. When golden strands of hair, soft as silk, slipped between his fingers and joined the rest of the mane, that lay spread like a halo around him, Vexen was no less than beautiful.

Now, in the peace of sleep, his features were relaxed, and the hollow cheeks were handsome, while the full mouth was fair. And in his right element, Vexen outran everyone and anyone in beauty. The glittering silver of ice was a perfect contrast against his hair, and the pale skin blended perfectly with the frozen world he could create.

And then his eyes. No grass or flower that Marluxia had ever created had ever held such a colour of green as Vexen's eyes. Emeralds went pale in comparison.

He was perfect because he wasn't perfect. When relaxed, Vexen's face was the most beautiful Marluxia had ever seen, but when talking, he could make faces that made the Graceful Assassin laugh.

He was skinny and had a crooked back, but only from exhaustion.

He was a misfit, but perfectly suited for his element.

He was warm with Marluxia, but cold towards everyone else.

He was a Prince of Ice.


End file.
